


Please wake up

by Late_to_the_fandom



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental run in with an unknown creature, Date Night, Hurt Stiles, M/M, fluffy love, hospital stay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-17 12:43:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16095914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Late_to_the_fandom/pseuds/Late_to_the_fandom
Summary: Date night was the day of the week they always looked forward to the most. It was the one day where they would put everything away for a few hours, turned their cell phones off and concentrate on each other. They had decided to splurge on dinner and made reservations at the new Italian place. They were not disappointed as the food had been divine and they had enjoyed breaking away from the everyday routine.





	Please wake up

Date night was the day of the week they always looked forward to the most. It was the one day where they would put everything away for a few hours, turned their cell phones off and concentrate on each other. They had decided to splurge on dinner and made reservations at the new Italian place. They were not disappointed as the food had been divine and they had enjoyed breaking away from the everyday routine.

 

The looks Stiles had been sending him during dinner were clearly lustful and needy, the anticipation building slowly, promising sweet release. They were walking back to the car, hands clasped together and whispering sweet nothing in each others’ ears, stopping along the way to kiss and touch when a storefront suddenly blew up, the façade exploding in thousands of glass shards as a large dark mass came hurtling out. Stiles was in the way and took the brunt of the impact, the creature crashing into him snarling and clawing. Derek shifted and let out an Alpha roar, startling the beast into immobility long enough for him to bulldoze it off of Stiles prone body. The thing took of in a dead run and disappeared in a darkened alleyway. Digging his phone from the pocket of his jacket he dialed 911 as he kneeled beside his lover’s body, assessing his injuries to relay the information to the EMTs.   

 

An ambulance arrived within minutes and they were at the hospital in less than ten. He’d called the Sherriff on the way and the man was waiting for them in the emergency room, obviously distraught but relieved as he looked over at his son, satisfying himself that he was still alive. He physically manhandled Derek and held him back when the EMTs pushed the gurney into the O.R.  A nurse directed them to the waiting room with the promise that they would let them know of his status as soon as they had any information to relay. They sat down heavily, the Sherriff drawing a hand on his face, stress evident on his features. Derek started to talk, to explain what had happened but the older man stopped him, telling him he was in no condition to take his deposition. Another deputy was called in and as they waited he found himself overwhelmed and angry and he just did not know what to do with all the extra emotions he was feeling. The Sherriff laid a hand on his nape and squeezed lightly, conveying his understanding and support in the simple yet grounding gesture.  Deputy Parrish arrived shortly after and he spent the better part of the next hour retelling and explaining what had happened to both men.

 

Parrish, being a supernatural himself, was used to dealing with the weirdness that seemed to be drawn to Beacon Hills, but he was somehow not buying the story he was telling him, and it was starting to get on his nerves. The man had already repeated everything twice and he was now on his third edit.

He got up, growled a bit at the officer and started pacing. “Yes, the creature had reddish brown fur. Yes, it just burst out of the store, shattering the glass. No, it did not attack us. Yes, I’m sure. I have already told you this three times.” Sherriff Stillinski looked pointedly at his deputy, the look clearly indicating he’d had enough. Parrish nodded, closed his notebook and slipped it into his shirt pocket. “Sir, I’ll keep you posted on the rest of the investigation. Let us know if you need anything.” He let himself out of the waiting room just as the doctor came in, a small smile on her lips.

 

She was encouraging in her relaying of Stiles prognosis, mentioning that his vitals were strong and even and injuries were considered minor, but the list was somewhat longer than expected: his left arm was broken in three places, a few ribs were bruised, one ankle was sprained, and he had multiple lacerations covering most of the left side of his body. The two biggest issue were the state of his brain and eyes. They were monitoring his cerebral functions since he had not yet regained consciousness due to the concussion he sustained when he hit his head on the sidewalk. The other problem was his vision. They had removed glass chards from both eyes and they would have no idea about the state of his eyesight until they removed the bandages in a few days. They now had to wait for Stiles to wake up. She finished by telling them he would be brought into his room shortly

 

When she left the Sherriff exhaled loudly and slouched back in his chair. He blinked a few times and rubbed a hand over his face, weariness etched in the lines of his skin and concern for his only son evident in his eyes. He took a seat and looked at the older man, not knowing what to say. They sat in silence until the Sherriff’s radio crackled lowly, the sound like a buzzing and the words indistinct. The elder Stillinski got to his feet and stood with his hands on his hips, unsure about his next move. Derek knew there was no way he would leave his son alone as much as he knew he wouldn’t leave his partner alone anyway. “John, I know it’s hard, but you have a job to do. I’ll stay here and keep watch over him. Call me whenever you want an update.”

 

John nodded. “Okay. Yeah, we can do that. Let’s go see if Melissa can tell us which room he’s in, I need to see him before I leave.”       

 

-oOo-

 

He felt leaden. His body felt odd, weighed down. So so heavy. He just let go and felt himself be pulled deeper and deeper.

 

 

-oOo-

 

Stiles had been unconscious since the evening of the incident, almost three days ago, and he was getting concerned. Not exactly scared yet but slowly getting there. He’d spent every minute of that time in this room, only leaving for a few hours to go shower and change when one of the pack or John came in to relieve him. Anxiety had its claws imbedded in his gut and it was starting to make his wolf uncomfortable, the need to get out and run was like an itch that he would not satisfy until his mate woke up. There was simply no way he was leaving Stiles until that happened.

 

He was halfway through his book when something moved in his peripheral vision. He dragged his eyes slowly off the page, looked up at Stiles and stared, eyebrows almost touching.  There! That was movement, right?  Well, more like a twitch or a spasm really, but still. Sticking the receipt between the pages he dropped the paperback on the bedside table as he leaned forward to gape at his partner intently, looking for any sign that he was ready to come back to the land of the living.

 

There was indeed movement, but it was the kind of jerk that happened when you sleep. He grasped his free hand and willed him to awaken. “Come on babe, please, wake up.” He murmured softly while rubbing circles on his knuckles.  He waited and observed a few minutes more then sighed in frustration as he sat back in the uncomfortable chair. He rubbed at his eyes and leaned his head back, swallowing the lump in his throat and feeling on the brink of tears. There was a light rustling of fabric and he jumped up, eyes wide and excitement bubbling quickly. He grabbed the thingamajig hanging by Stiles’ head and pressed the button to call the nurses station and held his breath.

 

As luck would have it, it was Melissa who entered the room a short while later with a puzzled look on her face. Derek was still standing by Stiles’ head, smiling like a lunatic. “He moved! I think he’s waking up!” Melissa smiled indulgently at him, squeezing his shoulder as she neared the bed. “That’s good. Let’s see how he’s doing.”  She prodded and pulled, checked and measured until she had examined Stiles from head to toe. She’d taken numerous notes and added comments in his file and ten minutes had passed before she turned back to him with an encouraging expression. “I’m pretty certain he’s no longer in a coma but just sleeping. We’ll need the doc to do a thorough examination, but it looks promising. I’ll go and call John to relay the god news. Let me know if anything else happens.” She closed the door softly behind her and he was once again left staring at his partner laying supine and banged up.

 

-oOo-

 

Everything was distorted, sounds were muffled, senses were dulled. He felt as though he was submerged in a viscous liquid, suspended between wakefulness and deep slumber.

 

He was trying to find his way out of it, but it was too strenuous. Floating was effortless so he just…. let….. himself….. float…..     

 

 

-oOo-

 

After a lengthy battery of tests, the specialist concluded that Stiles was no longer in a coma and that he was now sleeping. His body still needed to heal many different areas simultaneously and that took a lot of energy. His head trauma was the main injury that most likely had him shut down to regenerate. The Sherriff had cried in relief and Derek had come close to shedding a few tears himself when the diagnosis landed. They were now in the second phase of waiting for him to wake up. 

 

Derek was still adamantly refusing to leave and get some sleep. The pack had volunteered to keep vigil, but he did not budge. He was again sitting in the chair, but he now had a pillow and a blanket courtesy of Lydia. She’d marched in the previous evening stating that he could at least be as comfortable as possible while keeping watch. Scott and Kira had brought in a few containers of food around noon and he’d stuffed his face on sandwiches and pasta salad that didn’t taste like cardboard.  He was lost deep in his book when Stiles whimpered softly. He jumped up and drew closer to observe him, trying to see what part of his body had shifted. It seemed more likely that he’d tried to move something but had only twitched slightly as his limbs were in the same position. He ran a hand lightly over his hair as he waited to see if he would move again.   

 

 Stiles Adam’s apple bobbed, and he smacked his lips a few times. His throat must be unbelievably dry at this point, so he grabbed an ice cube from the glass he kept on the table and drew it along his chapped lips, letting the water trickle in his mouth. He then applied a bit of chap stick to sooth the cracked skin.  When nothing else happened, he sat back and resumed his reading. He'd gotten through a couple of chapters when there was a groan followed by what sounded like hissing. Dropping the book by Stiles feet he grabbed his hand, caressing the soft skin of his inner wrist as he pulled some of his pain. It seemed to appease Stiles and he was immobile once again.    

 

-oOo-

 

Something warm was brushing along his arm and fingers. It felt nice, comforting. He tried touching it but there was too much blackness around. The blackness was nice, soothing and he welcomed it.

 

-oOo-

 

Derek spent another uncomfortable night in the chair, waiting for his mate to regain consciousness. Melissa woke him with a start when she entered for Stiles’ daily check up. He stretched the kinks out of his back, stifling a yawn and blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes as she hovered over her second son while jotting down notes in his file. He told her about what had happened since her last visit and she was pleased with the progress, as small as it was, as anything was better than nothing. Scott arrived with coffee and pastries about an hour after she left, and they chatted as they ate. It was almost eight when he had to leave for school, promising to come back later. He used the following minutes to check his messages and social media, and then settled in for another long day.

 

He jolted awake and disoriented, searching blearily around the room for the source of his alarm. Drawing deep breaths, he rubbed a hand on his face and winced as he sat forward. He’d obviously fallen asleep in a weird position if the twinge in his lower back was any indication. He drew himself straight at the whimpering sounds coming from Stiles. He approached the bed and was assaulted by the stench of Stiles’ panic laced pain and his erratically beating heart. His lover was trying to move his body but found himself hindered by the many injuries he’d sustained. He had managed to shift his hips to one side and he was now laying with his right arm curled around his upper body, groaning at the soreness due to his broken ribs.

 

He leaned closer murmuring calmly.” Hey, it’s alright. Shhh… I’m here. Everything will be okay.” He caressed his hair, letting his hand trail down his cheek to the junction of his neck and shoulder. Stiles flinched at the contact and he dropped a kiss on his forehead to appease him. He kept touching him while talking softly until he had quieted down and stopped flailing in alarm.  Slipping his fingers in the neck opening of the gown, he laid his hand gently on the ball of his shoulder and watched the blackness run through the veins of his forearm as he pulled his pain. Stiles sighed deeply, a small, tired smile dancing on his lips as the ache ebbed. Turning his head in Derek’s direction he licked his lips and tried to speak, his voice raspy from unuse.

 

“Babe, don’t try talking. Would you like some water?” Stiles nodded slowly, and Derek grabbed the glass sitting on the table and brushed the straw along his bottom lip. “Here, let’s start with small sips okay.” He watched as Stiles swallowed carefully then deposited the glass once he was finished. Sitting by Stiles’ hip, he used the call button to get a nurse in the room.  The human fell asleep as they waited, a hand wrapped tightly around his.

 

 

-oOo-

 

Stiles woke up that evening to a moment of absolute anxiety when he was unable to open his eyes or move his limbs. His automatic flailing response was cut short as pain bloomed in his body and the sob that burst from his lips was heavy. A hand was suddenly in his hair, fingers rubbing his scalp lightly to ground him, the hushing voice comforting and familiar. “Derek?” He swallowed thickly, panting. “Hey,” The Alpha spoke calmly, knowing his mate would drag himself in a full-fledged panic attack if he didn’t stop it right away. “Take a few deep breaths. You’re safe. You were injured and you’re in the hospital.” Stiles managed to bring himself down after anchoring himself by grabbing a handful of his lover’s shirt sleeve. They stayed in that awkward embrace until Stiles heartbeat was back to its normal tempo and his breathing no longer came in painful gasps. “What happened? What was that thing?”

 

Derek laughed in relief as he sat right by Stiles’ hip. “It’s good to have you back. We don’t know what it was. We haven’t found a carcass, so we know it’s not dead. Deaton thinks it was just passing through but we’re still researching it.” The human tried sitting up a bit straighter, the movement pulling his features in a grimace at the ache in his chest. “What’s wrong with my eyes? hell, what’s wrong with the rest of me?” The question elicited a deep frown and a deeper sigh from the wolf. 

 

“Yeah, well, obviously your left forearm is broken.” Stiles snorted lightly as he waved his cast in the air in a way that clearly meant _DUH._ “I bet you rolled your eyes, didn’t you?” He knew his human would be alright when his reply was laced with the usual sarcasm and accompanied by as much of a shit eating grin his face could produce. “I would never!”

 

“Riiiight. So, back to your fragile-ness. You have a few cracked ribs and your right ankle is sprained. They removed hundreds of glass shards from your skin, which left tiny lacerations all over your body and there are nasty bruises on your chest where the animal hit you the hardest.” He squeezed Stiles’ fingers, pulling some of the pain and centering himself in the process. “You also had tiny glass fragments in your eyes, but we don’t know yet if there is any damage. You needed to be awake for testing, so they’ve been giving you eye drops and keeping them bandaged to help speed up the healing and prevent you from rubbing at them.”

 

Stiles had become silent at that last piece of information. Losing his sight was one of his greatest fear and his stomach clenched at the thought. He dragged a hand along his jaw, the sound of the scratching of his stubble a bit too loud in the sudden quiet. He shuddered, laid his head back against the pillow and exhaled the breath he hadn’t noticed he had been holding. “Being blind would suck balls but I guess it could be worst. I mean, I could be dead, so I should be happy. Right?”  Pinching the bridge of his nose proved to be difficult with the thick bandages and he ended up rubbing his head instead.

 

Derek leaned closer until he could lay his forehead against Stiles’, their breaths mingling gently. “You have no idea how elated I am that you’re alive. Don’t ever do something like this to me again. The last six days have been distressing and I don’t ever want to feel this powerless.” His mate had gone still at the realization that he had lost a whole week, then he started to shake as his heartbeat rabbited in his ribcage. “Stiles, honey, everything’s okay, you’re fine now. You had a mild concussion and your body needed time to heal, that’s all. Seeing you so still scared me and left me feeling useless but it’s good now.”   

 

Stiles fingers brushed up Derek’s arm until he felt his scruff under his fingertips. He laid his hand against the prickly skin and cradled his face, a soft, insecure smile on his chapped lips. ”Can you… would you stay and lay with me? I-I don’t…. I don’t…. I need you to hold me.” There was a kiss on his crown, “Of course, I’m not going anywhere. I haven’t left for more than a few hours since you’ve been here anyway,” then his body was carefully moved so that Derek’s heavier frame could fit beside him.  He turned a bit, nosed against his mate’s throat, taking in deep breath of his calming scent and slowly fell asleep.

 

The Sherriff came in after his shift to find them both in deep slumber, the soft smile on his son’s face a reward after all that had happened. He shuffled closer and sighed, his relief palpable. He’d been disappointed that he had been absent when Stiles woke up but seeing him with his partner, seeing them so in love even in sleep, he knew it was all he could wish for his son. He sat in the chair Derek had occupied the last week and let himself fall asleep too.    

**Author's Note:**

> I did not extend the story to talk about Stiles getting back a clean bill of health but he does regain his eyesight ;)


End file.
